


What if Fraser had Caught the Train

by nomave



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Ending, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomave/pseuds/nomave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the title implies, this story speculates as to what might have happened at the end of 'Victoria's Secret' if Ray hadn't shot Fraser, and the Mountie actually caught the train to go with Victoria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What if Fraser had Caught the Train

“She’s got a gun!” Ray raised his weapon and trained it on Victoria as the train pulled away, then hesitated. Now he wasn’t sure – it may have been a trick of the light. In that instant he saw Fraser reach Victoria, grab on to her and hop onto the step of the train. Ray watched as Fraser climbed inside the carriage after her. Stunned, he continued to stare as the train pulled away. Fraser was gone. He could hardly believe it. After all this, the Mountie had thrown everything away and gone with Victoria.   
He was roused from his thoughts by Welsh’s voice behind him, “Gardino – find out where that train stops and notify the next station to hold it! Then get some squad cars over there...Huey, put out an APB on Metcalfe – let’s cover ourselves in case we lose her. And get someone to collect those diamonds. Make sure we get her bag as evidence as well.”  
“Right, Sir.” The pair of detectives ran off.  
Welsh clapped Ray on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, Fraser can take care of himself. When we know where they’re going we can get on the train and help him.”  
“But...” Ray suddenly realised that Welsh still thought Fraser was intending to apprehend Victoria. Should he tell Welsh what he really suspected? No, if Welsh was giving Fraser the benefit of the doubt then so could he, “Right.” he said, but the word sounded unconvincing, even to him. Welsh obviously interpreted it as concern.  
“He’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

******

Fraser climbed into the train after Victoria, closed the door behind him and paused to catch his breath. He felt both apprehensive and elated at the same time. It had been a spur of the moment decision to go with her. When he had started to run he had felt that he couldn’t stand them to be separated again, and now they were together. He turned to face the woman he loved.   
“Give me the gun.”  
Fraser realised he was still holding Ray’s back up weapon, “No,” he answered, confused by the demanding tone of her voice.  
“Why not? Don’t you trust me?”   
After all she’d done? Of course he didn’t trust her, even though she had been unable to shoot him on two occasions today. Still, Fraser didn’t want to give up the gun, “It’s not yours,” he said, somewhat irrationally, given the situation.  
“And how are you going to give it back to your friend? That is, if he still is your friend.”  
Fraser felt a sudden thrill of horror, followed quickly by self loathing. Ray – in his moment of madness he’d forgotten. He’d well and truly broken his bail conditions. Ray had mortgaged his house for him. What had he done? How would Ray pay back the money? Was his salary up to it?   
It was only then that Fraser looked into Victoria’s eyes, and saw something there he hadn’t seen before – a coldness. Coldness mixed with a look of triumph. Horrified, he realised that he had made a terrible mistake. Whatever feelings she may have for him, they certainly didn’t match his own. She didn’t really love him, not the way he loved her.  
She must have seen the emotions play across his face.  
“Finally figured it out, have you?” Even her voice sounded cold. Cold, calm and ever so slightly exultant, “I’ve stripped you of everything you hold dear – your honour, your job, your exemplary record, your trustworthiness, and your friends. All for the sake of someone who only wanted revenge.”  
Every one of her words hit Fraser like a physical blow. He felt himself step back, but in the small space of the train vestibule, there was nowhere to go.   
“After everything that has happened, you still thought there could be something between us, didn’t you?”   
Fraser looked at the floor. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t act. He felt empty inside, and couldn’t get past the mortification of what he had done. Normally he was able to put emotion aside and process his thoughts, but now they were all buzzing around his head, competing for attention.  
Victoria laughed a cruel laugh, “You really are a complete amateur at this sort of thing, aren’t you? The big, brave, honest Mountie, reduced to running away with a common criminal. Who would have thought you could be duped so easily? But then, I seem to be your weakness, don’t I?”  
Fraser raised his head and stared at her, “I guess so,” he heard himself say.  
“Anyway, lovely as this has been, I don’t plan to be around when the police stop the train at the next station. We’ll be slowing for signals shortly, and then I’ll be getting off. You should probably do the same, but after that you’re on your own. I doubt you’ll manage to stay on the run for long, but you’ll probably turn yourself in, won’t you, Ben?”  
The next few minutes passed in silence. Fraser was still trying to comprehend exactly how his life had so dramatically fallen apart, and Victoria just calmly observed him, making sure he didn’t try anything with the gun. Fraser had to admit that he was finding her stare unnerving.  
“Where will you go?” he finally asked.  
“I’m not stupid enough to answer that. You’ve made it a little more difficult for me, of course, now that I don’t have my bag, but I’ve got some money in my pockets, so I should be able to get by,” she looked out the train window, and Fraser realised they had slowed to a crawl, “Anyway, this is my stop, so to speak.”  
With that, she opened the train door, climbed onto the step and then dropped to the ground next to the tracks, while the train paused where the lines crossed. Fraser had an odd moment where he didn’t know what to do, but then he cleared the fog in his brain enough to process some information. His life as he currently knew it might now be over, but he could at least try and do one thing right in this debacle. He could bring Victoria in for a second time. The train had started to move again as Fraser jumped from the still open doorway. It was a long way down, and he hit the ground hard, landing in the dirt next to the train line, but rolled to his feet and began to run after the fleeing figure of Victoria, as she headed for the houses beyond the railway embankment. He was faster than her, and more accustomed to running on uneven ground, so caught up quickly, grabbing her by the collar of her coat and setting her off balance.  
“Son of a bitch!” she cried, and twisted around to try and free herself.   
Fraser felt her sharp nails scrape down his cheek but kept his hold tight. He suddenly realised that she was trying to surreptitiously reach for the gun he had put in his pocket at some point during the previous few minutes – he couldn’t remember doing it, but could feel its weight move as she partly pulled it from his pocket. He grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, hard enough so she cried out in pain.   
“No!” he said angrily.  
“You’re going to have to shoot me, unless you plan on dragging me to the nearest police station like this, and you might find that I don’t co-operate.”  
They were interrupted by a shout from nearby.  
“Hey, what’s going on out there? You need help, lady?”   
Fraser looked up to see a man coming out the gate of a property that backed onto the railway tracks.   
Victoria spoke quickly, “This man is attacking me! You have to help me!”  
“No, you don’t understand...” Fraser began, but was then obliged to duck out of the way as a fist came flying in his direction. The action forced him to loosen his grip on Victoria, and she took the opportunity to flee. Distracted by looking at where she’d gone, Fraser failed to avoid a second blow. Winded, he went down to his knees, but easily blocked the third punch. He didn’t notice the gun fall from his pocket.  
“That’ll teach you to attack innocent women!” With that, the man turned on his heel and went back to his house.   
Fraser was obliged to pause and catch his breath. When he finally climbed to his feet he looked in the direction he’d seen Victoria depart. There was no sign of her, not that he had expected there to be, but she would only be a few minutes ahead of him. Wearily he set off in pursuit. 

******

The Station Master looked at this watch again. He could see that the passengers on the train were becoming irritated by the delay, yet the only message he could pass on to them was that he had been asked to hold the train. They must know something was wrong from the presence of the uniformed police standing on the station platform. Finally he saw a group of four men approach – even without seeing their badges, he could tell they were plain clothes police officers.   
Welsh approached the Station Master, “I’m sorry for the delay. We’ll be through with this as quickly as we can,” he turned to his detectives, “Alright - get on that train and start searching.” Turning back he asked, “You’re sure nobody has got off the train?”   
“I’m positive nobody got off here, but when the train stopped one of the doors was open – there,” he pointed to an open doorway on one of the carriages.  
“Wonderful,” Welsh didn’t sound pleased.

Ray was off the train first. Welsh noted that he looked dejected.  
“Nothing,” the detective reported, “They’re not there.”  
Huey and Gardino joined them.  
“Sir,” Huey said, “A couple of the passengers reported seeing people running away from the train about twenty minutes after it left the main station. One said a man, one said a woman. We’re not that sure about the location though.”  
Welsh spoke to the Station Master, “Okay, you can let the train go now, but then I’d like some further information from you.”

******

The part of the city in which Fraser found himself was unfamiliar to him. All he knew was that he was in the suburbs to the north-west of central Chicago. He had no idea where to begin looking for Victoria, and he wished he had Diefenbaker with him. He figured his chances of finding a strand of dark curly hair stuck to a building were minimal. A low rumble could be heard a couple of blocks away, telling him that he was close to an El-line – Chicago’s local rail system.  
At that point his mind snapped to clarity, as he recalled the Transit Authority map he’d taken pains to study upon first arriving in the city. Victoria had planned for every single contingency in her revenge plot, she wouldn’t have left the end to chance. It was clear to him now that she had never intended to stay on the train – getting off where she did was always her intent. He remembered the plane tickets in her bag, and now realised where Victoria was going. Quickly jogging to the El line, he followed it to the next station. He checked the rail map posted there, and confirmed his supposition. The line went to Chicago O’Hare Airport.   
Assuming he was correct, Victoria must already be part way there. Should he get the next train, or look for quicker means of transportation? It was late at night, traffic should be light. He started looking for a cab rank. 

******  
“Well, this is where the guy said the trains were likely to slow down,” Gardino took a look around as they stood near to the railway tracks, “But what are we looking for?”  
“Anything,” Welsh replied, “Let’s split up. Meet back here in ten minutes or shout if you find something.”  
Ray wondered what had happened to make Fraser and Victoria leave the train. Then again, both should have realised that the train would be stopped at some point by the police, so it did make sense. They didn’t seem to have gone together though. None of the passengers who’d noticed people on the side of the tracks had said there were two people together. That gave Ray the first glimmer of hope for his friend. Perhaps Fraser really had gone after Victoria, and not with her. Ray wished he could know for sure. He also wished he could have had Fraser with him at that moment – the Mountie was the one who was the expert tracker. Ray smiled at the thought of Fraser trying to track himself.   
It was at that moment that his foot kicked against something heavy. He looked down and found himself staring at a handgun. Crouching, he realised that it was one of his handguns.  
“Sir!” he shouted.  
Welsh jogged over to him, “And?” he queried.  
“It’s mine. Only when I last saw it, it was locked in a drawer at home.”  
Welsh’s cell phone chose that moment to ring. He answered it, and Ray saw his boss’s lips tighten. When he hung up, he paused a moment before speaking, “Internal Affairs are back,” he finally announced, “We’re wanted at the station.”

******

When he arrived at the airport, Fraser scanned the area. He was fairly sure that Victoria no longer had her airline tickets, as they had been in the bag she’d dropped at the train station. She would need to establish her identity to get replacements. That might be difficult if her wallet was also in the bag, though he supposed it was possible she may have had it in her pocket – she had said she had money with her. He methodically began looking for the American Airlines ticket desk. His task was made easier by the lack of people in the airport terminal due to the lateness of the hour.  
When he located it, part of him was grimly pleased his deductions were correct, but another shameful part wished that Victoria had escaped. He quashed the regret.   
Victoria was busy arguing with the woman behind the counter, obviously trying to obtain a replacement ticket for her flight.   
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk was saying, “But the flight is fully booked.”  
“I know that – I had a ticket, which I’ve lost, but I’m happy to pay for a replacement.”  
Fraser looked around and spotted two airport security men patrolling the check-in area. Fishing his RCMP identification out of his wallet, he approached them and introduced himself, continuing, “The woman at that desk is a wanted criminal called Victoria Metcalfe. The Chicago Police will confirm what I am saying, but in the meantime, I wonder if I could have your assistance in apprehending her.”  
The men looked dubious, but then one of them lifted his radio to request confirmation of what Fraser was saying. Fraser anxiously kept an eye on Victoria as he waited for a response. He was relieved when he heard the guard’s radio come to life, and heard verification that there was a bulletin out on a woman going by the name of Victoria Metcalfe.  
“If you’d wait here, Sir. We’ll need to talk to you as well.”  
“Of course.”  
Fraser watched as the security men approached the ticket desk and flanked Victoria. One of them spoke quietly to her. He saw her hesitate for a brief moment. Then she looked over their shoulders and spotted Fraser. The look she gave him was one of pure hatred. It seemed to burn a hole in Fraser’s heart. Then she said something to the security men, obviously accepting her fate. Fraser had to hand it to her – she could have made a scene, but she was smart enough to know that she’d finally lost. It was the same defiant resignation he’d seen when he had handed her over to the authorities back in the Territories.   
When the trio approached, she spoke to Fraser, “I should have killed you when I had the chance,” she spat out angrily.  
“I’m sorry.” The words came automatically, but sincerely, from Fraser’s lips. Victoria just glared at him.  
They were taken to a secure area while they waited for the regular police to arrive. 

******

Considering it was the middle of the night, the squad room was a hive of activity. Ray could see the two internal affairs officers standing with Assistant State’s Attorney St Laurent. He could also see some evidence bags sitting on Huey’s desk. Elaine was also still working, collating witness statements.  
“Harding!” one of the Internal Affairs officers hailed Welsh.  
Welsh approached grimly, flanked by his detectives. Ray hung back a bit, given that he wasn’t meant to be there at all.  
The other IA officer raised his eyebrows in Ray’s direction, “I thought he was suspended.”  
“I reinstated him,” Welsh said, in a tone that suggested that it wouldn’t be wise to prolong that particular conversation, “Now, what do you want?”   
Once attention was turned away from him, Elaine sidled up to Ray and handed him an envelope. His name was on the outside, written in Fraser’s distinctive angular handwriting. Ray frowned, puzzled.  
“The vet dropped it off,” Elaine explained, “Said he found it attached to Dief’s cage after Fraser visited earlier this...I mean yesterday, evening. He thought it might be important.”  
“Thanks, Elaine,” Ray moved to his desk so the IA officers couldn’t see him, and opened the envelope.  
There were three pages inside. The first page was a letter to Ray. The other two were on Canadian Consulate letterhead, and were set out as a police statement. Ray started with the letter, which began with an apology for all the trouble the Mountie felt he had caused Ray with regard to Victoria, and said how much he valued their friendship. As he read on, it became clear to Ray that Fraser believed there was a possibility he would either not survive the night, or would certainly end up in jail, as he asked Ray to make sure Diefenbaker made it back to Canada, suggesting Buck Frobisher might be willing to take on the wolf. There was also an apology about the state in which he had left Ray’s home, which puzzled the Detective, until he turned his attention to the accompanying statement. Ray read as Fraser clinically described the events of that evening, starting with Victoria’s phone call after Ray had dropped him off at his apartment. He read about the search for the key, and the Mountie’s forced agreement to take part in a trade of the robbery money for diamonds that Fraser suspected were stolen. The only time the statement strayed from its neutral tone was when Fraser was making clear that Ray had no knowledge of these events and had played no part in them. Ray sighed. That explained where the diamonds that had been scattered on the train platform had come from. He stuffed the personal letter in his pocket, and stood up, approaching Welsh and the others, who were still busy bickering with the IA officers.  
“You’ll want to see this, Sir. It’s from Fraser.”  
Welsh read over the statement quickly, then passed it to the IA men. Ray watched their faces as they read, but couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Finally, one of them spoke.  
“This changes nothing. It’s from the suspect – he’s just trying to make up a story to cover himself.”  
Welsh held up his hand as Ray started to protest, “That’s bullshit!” he told the IA officers, “You’ve decided Fraser and Vecchio are guilty and ignoring anything that doesn’t fit your scenario. That’s sloppy police work, and you know it.”  
“Oh yeah, and you can prove otherwise?”  
“Well, let’s start with these diamonds right here,” Welsh pointed to one of the evidence bags, “along with this bag, belonging to a woman you claimed was dead, who I saw with my own eyes – as did two other of my officers,” he gestured towards Huey and Gardino.  
On cue, Gardino handed Welsh a pile of witness statements that he’d received from Elaine, continuing his boss’s line of thought, “And was also seen by a dozen independent witnesses at the train station, including this guy,” he indicated the top statement, “who tried to help her with the locker.”  
Huey hefted a small suitcase onto the desk with the other evidence, “Plus a case full of women’s clothing, retrieved from an adjacent locker, opened with a key taken from the bag that was dropped.”  
Elaine handed Welsh another piece of paper, which he glanced at, “Oh,” he said, “and maybe I could interest you in a set of fingerprints lifted from Detective Vecchio’s house. They’ve been positively identified as belonging to one Victoria Metcalfe,” he slapped the report down on the desk in front of the IA officers, “You’ll also see mention of some rather conclusive DNA evidence from a strand of hair found in one of the bedrooms.”  
The IA officers had the decency to look a little nonplussed, but refused to back down, “All that proves is that she’s alive, not that Fraser didn’t commit the murder, or have access to the stolen money.”  
“Oh, come on!” Ray could contain himself no longer, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”  
Louise St Laurent had remained silent throughout the whole conversation until this point, but was too much of a realist to let the argument go on, “He’s right,” she said, “We need to prove Fraser committed the crime beyond reasonable doubt. No jury is going to convict in the face of all this,” she gestured at the evidence bags.  
Ray was momentarily stunned into silence, “Why thank you, Louise,” he finally managed, then turned to glare at the IA officers, who glanced at each other, and then at the Assistant State’s Attorney.  
“Until either Fraser or Metcalfe turn up, I suggest the case is put on hold,” she said, “There’s no point trying to prosecute on the evidence we have, and you’re only interested in Vecchio’s part in the crime anyway, which has always been circumstantial.”  
The Internal Affairs officers found themselves now in a minority of two.  
“Alright, Harding,” one finally said, “You got what you wanted, but we get one inkling your area is involved further in this, and we’ll be back here so fast you’re head will spin.”  
The detectives watched as the IA officers left the squad room. Ray passed a tired hand across his head, “I wish I knew where Fraser was,” he said.  
“We’ve done all we can tonight,” Welsh stated, “Vecchio, go home and get some sleep. We’ll finish up here.”

******

The police station to which they went was unfamiliar to Fraser, but he was glad of it. It would be easier amongst strangers.  
The officers who had brought them in, took them straight to the custody desk.   
“Guy says this is Victoria Metcalfe – the woman we got the APB about,” one of them explained.  
“That true?” the Custody Sergeant asked.  
“Yes, sir,” Fraser agreed. “My name is Benton Fraser, and this is Victoria Metcalfe, who is wanted, I believe, for murder, possession of stolen money, and potentially as an accessory to the theft of a quantity of diamonds.”  
“Yep, we’ve got the story.”  
“You also need to arrest me, for handling stolen property, namely the diamonds previously mentioned, and attempting to flee the city, thus violating previously existing bail conditions.”  
The Sergeant stared at Fraser for a long moment, “Yeah, you’ve just helped bring in a wanted criminal, let’s not get carried away here...”  
The man facing him began to look agitated, “You must arrest me,” he insisted, “I need you to arrest me.”  
Victoria spoke for the first time since he’d found her at the airport.“Don’t be such a martyr,” she scoffed, “Do you really think being arrested and jailed will cleanse you of your crimes? Take a good look at reality, Ben. Jail isn’t rehabilitation.”  
The Custody Sergeant looked from one to the other, “Let’s deal with you first,” he said to Victoria. He took down Victoria’s details and instructed that she be put in a holding cell. Then he turned back to Fraser, “I’m going to have to check with the 27th about this.”  
He went off to make a phone call, but was back fairly quickly, “I can’t get hold of anyone there who knows anything right now,” he explained, “Not surprising at this hour. Why don’t you wait on that bench over there?”  
“Sergeant,” Fraser explained patiently, “I have committed a crime, and it is your duty to arrest me for it.”  
The Sergeant sighed. The bulletin they had received had said the Metcalfe woman was with a man matching Fraser’s description, but had said nothing about arresting him as well. Something didn’t seem quite right. The man facing him was obviously extremely agitated though, and seemed to be operating on auto-pilot. The Sergeant doubted he would notice, in his current state of one track mind, if a few procedures were skipped.  
“Very well,” he said finally, and called to one of his officers, “Jones – put him in holding   
cell 3.”   
As Fraser was led away. The Sergeant made a mental note to try the 27th again in a few minutes, but a busy night ultimately ended up delaying his plan for the next couple of hours.

******

Ray pushed open his front door. It was 3am and he just wanted to get some rest. He was taken aback to find the inner door hanging off its hinges. Drawing his gun, he walked into the front room and just stared for a long moment. At first he thought he’d been burgled, until he realised that all the electrical equipment was still intact. It was only then that he remembered Fraser’s statement about the search for the key. Reholstering his gun, he pulled Fraser’s letter to him from his pocket and re-read the apology for the state of the house. Ray surveyed the devastation that was his home, sighed, shrugged, and dragged himself upstairs. He swept a quantity of debris off his bed and lay down, fully clothed, too tired to be bothered to change.   
Tired, but with too much on his mind to sleep. He wondered where Fraser was right now.  
Apart from the gun, they’d found no further sign of either the Mountie or Victoria. Ray felt beaten – his friend seemed to have disappeared, and disappeared with a woman who was going to do him no good at all. How could Fraser be such an idiot? And what a hold Victoria seemed to have over the Mountie. Although he knew he should really be angry, Ray could only feel fear for his friend.   
He fell asleep still puzzling over Fraser’s actions, but was woken just two hours later by a phone call from Welsh, “They’re at the 33rd – out near O’Hare. I’ll meet you there. You know where you’re going?”  
Ray confirmed that he did, instantly awake, despite the lack of sleep. He grabbed his keys and ran from the house.

******

Ray looked at the man sitting hunched in the cell. Whilst still recognisably Fraser, it was a Fraser that Ray hadn’t seen before. His shoulders were hunched, there was a nasty looking scratch down his cheek, and his clothes looked dishevelled and even a little dusty. But it was his general air of dejection that most worried Ray. Fraser was staring at the floor, and Ray didn’t think he had even heard the cell door open.   
“Benny.”  
Fraser glanced up. He appeared to take a moment to focus, as if his thoughts had been far way, “Ray?”  
“Come on, Benny, you’re free to go.”  
A look of confusion passed over Fraser’s face, “But I’ve been arrested, Ray. I need to face charges in court.”  
“They never arrested you, Benny,” Ray explained quietly, “Didn’t you notice that they didn’t read you your rights? No charges have been laid.”  
Fraser looked utterly bewildered, “But I told them…” he began. Ray interrupted,  
“Everyone thinks you were going after Victoria to apprehend her, Fraser. And you did.”  
Fraser looked at the floor again, but not before Ray had seen a look in his eyes that it pained him to see. It was the look of something dying inside, a hopelessness that scared Ray, “I was going with her,” Fraser said, so quietly that Ray almost didn’t hear it.  
Ray sighed, “I know,” he said.  
Fraser looked up again, puzzled this time, “Then why…?” he wasn’t sure what to actually ask.  
“Because you’re my friend, you’re in trouble, and none of this is your fault.”  
Fraser gave a snort of derision, “Ray, last night I co-operated with a criminal in buying stolen diamonds, and then tried to run away. I broke my bail conditions in the worst way possible…and I didn’t even think about the consequences on you. That you mortgaged your house for me…oh.” Fraser hung his head again.  
“What?”  
“Of course. You’re doing this for me to save your house,” the voice that had become slightly more animated sounded dead again. Ray felt a surge of irritation.  
“No, Benny. This isn’t about the mortgage or your bail. You’ve been manipulated against your will. We’ve got the statement you wrote explaining what happened. The diamonds were recovered, and we’ve found enough other evidence to clear you, or at least cast doubt on your guilt, including Victoria’s fingerprints at my house. Now come on, we’re getting out of here.” Ray came over and took Fraser’s arm, hauling the other man to his feet, rather more roughly than was necessary. Damn Fraser for not wanting to be helped!  
Fraser was obviously startled, but he let Ray lead him out of the cell and to the custody officer’s desk. He signed some papers and followed Ray meekly towards the door. Then he stopped and looked hesitant.  
Ray guessed what he wanted to know, “She’ll be held here for questioning today, and will probably go to court for a preliminary hearing tomorrow morning.”   
Fraser nodded.

******

Ray eyed Fraser carefully once they got into the daylight. His friend looked pale and drawn. There were dark circles under his eyes. He walked with slumped shoulders and didn’t pay too much attention to where he was being led.  
“You look like you could use some rest,” Ray commented.  
“I don’t think I can sleep,” Fraser replied tiredly.  
Ray nodded, “How about we go back to my place then?” He really didn’t think it was wise to leave the Mountie alone at the moment.  
Fraser looked up, alarmed, “Ray, there’s something I need to tell you…”  
“I got the letter, Fraser, and I’ve been to the house,” Ray said.  
“Ray, I’m so sorry, but I needed to find the key – if I hadn’t found it before Internal Affairs….I was afraid…” Fraser stopped, aware he wasn’t making much sense.  
“I know, Benny. Look, would it make you feel any better to help me tidy up a bit? The family are due back this afternoon, and whilst we won’t be able to fix everything, maybe we could make the place look a bit less like a bomb site.”  
“Yes, Ray, I’d like that. But…I don’t want to be there when we get back.”  
“They won’t be back until this evening. I’ll take you home before then.”

******

It took them quite a while to tidy up. They couldn’t put everything back in the drawers because neither of them were sure what went where, and Ray said nobody would ever find anything if they just put things in at random (or organised them in a logical way, like Fraser wanted). Ray also had second thoughts about the pool table, so they took it back down to the basement and brought the dining table back up. By mid afternoon, the place looked, if not tidy, then more in order. Ray noticed Fraser was beginning to look anxious, and he knew his friend wasn’t up to the attentions of Ray’s family after the events of the last twenty four hours. And if Ray had thought the Mountie looked tired that morning, now he was starting to look as if he was ready to fall down. Ray suspected Fraser had had very little sleep in the last two or three days – particularly considering he had spent the last two nights in jail cells. It was a wonder he was on his feet at all. Ray led Fraser into the living room.   
“I called Frannie – they’re still at least four hours away. There’s nothing to worry about. Let’s sit down and have something to eat.”   
“I’m not that hungry, Ray. Thanks all the same.”  
Ray frowned. In the cell that morning he’d noticed an untouched tray of food, and Fraser had also refused Ray’s offer of a meal the previous evening. He needed to play this carefully. Deciding to act cheerful, he insisted, “We haven’t eaten all day. Of course you’re hungry. I’ll heat up some soup.”  
It didn’t take long to microwave the meal. When he returned to the living room, Fraser was sitting on the couch, but he appeared tense, and was perched on the edge of the cushions. The Mountie had been quiet all day, but with the task before them Ray hadn’t had time to deal with it. Now he was starting to realise just how withdrawn his friend was, and it made him nervous. He’d witnessed the Mountie riding an emotional roller coaster in the last week, and it had been unnerving to see this hitherto self-possessed and logical man get so caught up with a woman that he neglected his duties and refused to see sense, even when that woman had betrayed him. And now he’d been forced to let her go a second time, and it was obviously hurting. He watched as Fraser managed to choke down the soup Ray had prepared.   
“You did the right thing, you know,” Ray said quietly.  
“I know,” Fraser replied, and with a sigh added, “I always do,” he looked away quickly and then picked up the empty soup bowls, “I’ll wash these up,” he said, in a none too steady voice, not looking at Ray.  
Ray was unnerved. He’d never seen his friend this emotional. He could hear Fraser rinsing the plates in the kitchen, making more noise than was necessary. When he returned he’d regained control though, his face its usual calm mask. Only his eyes revealed any signs of the turmoil going on inside his head and heart.   
“Okay, let’s get you home,” Ray said, so Fraser didn’t have to speak.

******

Fraser stopped in the doorway to his apartment, momentarily puzzled as to what he was waiting for, before realising he was expecting Diefenbaker to greet him. He felt a pang of sorrow upon remembering that the wolf was still at the Veterinary Hospital. Closing the door behind him, he looked around. Walking across the room he could see that he obviously had some cleaning up to do here as well. Feeling a sudden burst of anger, he swiped a group of candle stubs from the table – some of the many he’d laid out only the evening before. The rage died quickly, however, replaced by total melancholy. He sank to the floor, leaning against the wall, and started to weep silently, unable to stop the tears.  
It was dark by the time he felt in control again. The physical manifestation of the emotion was spent, but it had left him feeling as if there was a heavy weight in his chest. He also had no energy, and a splitting headache. He forced himself to his feet, however, and made himself begin the task of clearing up the candles, methodically separating out those that could be re-used and bagging the rest for disposal. Once the apartment was back to its usual spartan appearance he finally felt able to clean himself up as well, carefully avoiding his neighbours as he made his way to and from the communal bathroom. Despite the exhaustion he felt, he still lay on his bed for some time, unable to sleep, remembering that the last time he’d been in this bed he’d shared it with Victoria. The thought almost sent him over the edge into tears again, but he wrestled the feeling down. It was over. They were not destined to be together. She would go back to jail. He would go back to being a Mountie, at least he would if Ray was right and he could be fully cleared of the charges that had been brought against him. Eventually the tiredness caught up with him and he slept.

******

“What’s going on?” Ray asked Lieutenant Welsh as he arrived at the courthouse for Victoria’s hearing. He had overslept and had expected to arrive late, but there didn’t seem to be any activity to show that proceedings were about to begin.  
Welsh looked grim, “The Metcalfe woman escaped.”  
Ray felt fear grip him, “How?”  
“Apparently she managed to convince one of the officers guarding her that she was ill – when he leaned over her, she banged his head against the wall, knocking him out, took his gun, and escaped.”  
“She escaped from a police station full of armed officers?” Ray was incredulous.  
“She picked her moment well – the cleaning staff were there and were taking some rubbish out of a fire exit next to the cells. She got out there – it was a quarter of an hour before they realised she was gone.”  
Ray didn’t like this one bit, “I have to find Fraser.” He ran from the building, hoping he wasn’t already too late. He was sure Victoria would go after the Mountie – and it was a fair bet that after turning her in again, revenge of the worst kind would be what was on her mind.

******

Fraser had woken uncharacteristically late, but he supposed he had needed the sleep. He didn’t feel rested though, having been troubled by disturbing dreams for much of the night. He took a look around the apartment – it looked exactly as it had before Victoria had walked back into his life. As if it had all never happened. Victoria. He had to stop thinking about her – it was as if she was possessing his mind. He felt very confused – he knew he should hate her for what she had done to him, but he couldn’t quite get to that point. He wasn’t even sure what he did still feel for her. Certainly, he was hurt, angry and betrayed, but behind it all there was still a feeling of regret that it hadn’t worked out, even against the impossible odds put in the way of their relationship. He just had to put what had happened behind him, get on with life and try and pretend everything was the same as it had been before she’d arrived and turned everything upside down. As Fraser dressed, he made a mental list of things he needed to do – the two top priorities were grocery shopping, as there was almost no food in the house, and visiting Dief. As he was still suspended for duty, a visit to the library to get something to read was also probably a good idea. It made more sense to go to the vets first, and get the groceries on the way home. 

******

“Benny?” Ray knocked anxiously at the door to Fraser’s apartment. Was he too late? Had Victoria already got her hands on the vulnerable Mountie? Ray wasn’t sure Fraser could cope emotionally with another encounter with the evil witch (as he’d come to think of Victoria). Drawing his gun he carefully opened the door and stepped inside, ready to fire if necessary.   
The apartment was empty. Ray walked around, but he could see no signs of any struggle. The bed was neatly made, and everything was in its rightful place. Did that mean Victoria hadn’t been here, or that she had, but Fraser had gone with her willingly? Would the Mountie really be so stupid as to fall for her charms again? Ray wanted to think that he wouldn’t, but he wasn’t sure. He and Fraser had never really discussed women, not from Fraser’s point of view anyway, and Ray had always made the assumption that the Mountie had little experience of the female sex, particularly given how flustered he usually became when a woman started to flirt with him. Assuming his presumption was correct, and based on what Ray had witnessed of Fraser’s whole-hearted infatuation over the last week, Ray feared Fraser might still be vulnerable to Victoria’s manipulations. So where was the Mountie now? With Victoria – or just gone for a walk? Ray looked in the refrigerator and cupboards – a couple of tins of food and the remains of a carton of milk. He could have gone shopping. Ray decided to start with the supermarket.

******

It was quiet at the Veterinary Hospital. Most of the animals were dozing. Fraser was glad to see that Diefenbaker seemed a little more alert. He had thought the previous evening that it was possible he would never see the wolf again, so he was doubly glad to be with his furry companion. The vet had told him that it looked like Dief would fully recover from the gunshot wound, and that all being well Fraser would probably be able to take him home in about a week. Fraser sat with the wolf and talked quietly to him about inconsequential matters, trying to distract himself as much as anything else. 

******

Ray came out of the supermarket, frustrated. He hadn’t found Fraser in any of the shops he’d visited. His cell phone rang.  
“Vecchio.”  
“It’s Huey. There’s been a sighting of Victoria Metcalfe.”  
“Where?” Ray demanded.  
Huey told him, and Ray suddenly realised where he would find Fraser. He told Huey to come with reinforcements.

******

Fraser paused outside the entrance to the vets, getting the sudden feeling that someone was watching him. He looked around the car park, and then caught sight of movement at the corner of the building. Frowning, curiosity roused, he started walking in that direction. He was not prepared, however, for Victoria to step out, a handgun raised to point straight at him. Fraser halted in shock. There was a long moment of silence.  
“How did you escape?” he finally asked quietly.  
“Does it matter?” her voice was harsh – no trace of warmth at all.  
“I guess not,” his voice sounded hollow.  
“I’m not going to give you the opportunity to hand me in again. This time I am not giving in to misplaced sentiment. You’re going to die, and I won’t care one bit.”  
“Drop the gun, Victoria!”  
Fraser looked to the side and saw Ray approaching from the side of the car park nearest the entrance. His weapon was aimed unwaveringly at Victoria. Behind Ray, Fraser could see Huey, Gardino and Lieutenant Welsh.  
Victoria glanced to the side quickly. She kept her weapon trained on Fraser, but spoke to Ray, “If you come any closer, I’ll take you out as well. In fact, I might do it anyway, because that would really upset your friend Fraser, wouldn’t it Ben?”   
In an instant Victoria switched her aim to Ray. Fraser saw her finger tighten on the trigger, and saw Ray also preparing to fire. Fraser threw himself at Victoria, crossing the couple of metres between them quickly. Her shot went wide as he tackled her, but Ray’s shot was deadly accurate.   
It hit the point where Victoria’s body would have been.   
It hit Fraser in the back.   
The Mountie clung momentarily to Victoria, his eyes seeking out hers. She had the decency to look shocked. Then he fell back, crashing heavily to the ground and rolling onto his back.  
Horrified, Ray ran over to where Fraser lay. He was dimly aware of Gardino in the background, shouting that he would call an ambulance, and of Huey, cuffing Victoria, and taking her away.  
The Mountie was pale and trembling. Ray bent over his friend. Fraser focussed on Ray, and said in a shaky voice, “I couldn’t let you shoot her, Ray.” The look in his eyes almost broke Ray’s heart. Then the Mountie added, “And I couldn’t let her shoot you…it was the only way to save you both.”  
Ray hadn’t heard Welsh approach until the Lieutenant asked, “What did he say?”   
“He said get me to a hospital.” Ray answered, feeling guilty for lying, but not willing to expose Fraser’s ill conceived feelings for Victoria to his boss.  
Ray turned his attention back to Fraser. The Mountie’s attention seemed to be drifting, he was staring straight up now, and Ray could hear him muttering something. Anxiously, he leaned closer, “I can’t understand you.”   
Welsh was leaning in as well, “He’s reciting a poem,” he said.  
All they could do was listen as snow began to fall.

 

The End (well, how else were we still going to have ‘Letting Go’?)


End file.
